Only Three
by miley-avril
Summary: Tumblr prompt: "Prompt: Killian and Emma's son dies of cancer". Set five years in the future, Hook and Emma's son, Tyler, has only days to live. Warning: dark.


**THIS IS PROBABLY THE DARKEST FIC I'VE EVER WRITTEN, BUT I ASKED FOR CS PROMPTS ON TUMBLR, SO I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD WRITE IT.**

_*Prompt: Killian and Emma's son __dies__ of __cancer*_

"I'm so sorry. It's cancer, and stage 5. Inoperable. I'd say he has four days at the most."

Even Dr. Whale seemed teary eyed as he uttered the words no parent ever wanted to hear. At least he hadn't said 'Tyler is dying'. The calm, cool exterior Hook had been putting up since they arrived in the emergency room –Tyler had passed out due to the excruciating headache the tumor was causing– was crumbling. Emma didn't need to look at him to know; she could feel his jaw tense as he fought back tears, the same tears she didn't bother fighting. Her son was dying. She looked through the glass into the boy's room, where he laid hooked up to various machines.

"What about chemo?" The blonde's voice was wavering, and she didn't register the wetness on her cheeks.

"His body's too weak." Dr. Whale shook his head sadly. Hearing that final confirmation that there was nothing anyone could do for her baby boy, Emma let out a whimper.

"But he's only three." She protested to any god that was listening. Seeing the Sheriff and Co-Deputy (Hook and David were both deputies, with Emma insisting it was the only way to keep Hook out of trouble) so broken was apparently too much for Whale, because he squeezed each of their shoulders before walking off down the hall. Emma threw herself into Hook's arms. Their tears mingled together on the cold floor.

It was times like these that they were both grateful they'd changed –that Hook stopped running away from responsibility and Emma stopped shutting down. They could simply hold each other and weep for the life they were losing. On some level, it scared her to see him crying. He'd only allowed her to see his tears once, and that was when Tyler was born.

After staying like that for what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, she pulled back, sniffling. She dragged the back of her hand across her now swollen and red eyes.

"I should probably call my parents." She mumbled, her voice still shaking. "God, Snow still thinks he passed out from dehydration…"

"If only that was true." Hook said in a low voice. "I guess… I guess I'll have Henry drive over." Henry had turned sixteen a few months ago, and was eager to drive anywhere and anytime. "I won't tell him why, but…"

"No, no that's good." She sniffled again. "I'm just gonna step outside…"

"I'll text him." The two made their way to opposite ends of the hospital to opposite courtyards. They were also thankful for their ability to turn off their emotions, even for just a little bit. It made the calls they had to make easier.

* * *

Hook was done first, and he made his way back to Tyler's room fairly quickly. He opened the sliding glass door and paused, taking in the sight of his son, his small frame, the mop of sandy-blonde hair on his head, his little button of a nose. He pictured the bright blue orbs hidden behind his eyelids. Tyler was very much a mix of him and Emma. Slowly, step by step, he inched closer to the boy. He sat on one of the white plastic chairs and grabbed hold of Tyler's small hand. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of it. The tears came fast and steadily.

"I'm so sorry, Son." He said in a whisper, unable to get his voice any louder. He had to choke out every word as it was. "I wanted to be the father you deserve… but I failed you." Hook wasn't sure if the boy could hear him. Dr. Whale had said they gave him some heavy sedatives until they finished their tests and figured out the best way to keep his headache under control. And really, he didn't care if Tyler could hear him. It was almost better if he didn't know he was dying.

* * *

Alone, Emma allowed herself to slump to the ground, the white gravel biting her hands as she hit the ground. She allowed herself to openly sob and scream the sounds of a mother whose child was dying. She screamed until her throat was raw, until their couldn't be any more tears left, until the sobs became violent shudders. After a while, Hook somehow found her. He pulled her off the ground, ignoring her incoherent jumbles of words as she tried to put together a sentence. He tried to pick her up bridal style, but she started hitting his chest. Apparently she had skipped denial and went straight to anger.

* * *

When they got back to Tyler's room, he was still sleeping, but they found a crying Mary Margaret and David, the latter of whom even hugged Hook.

"Mom." The word came out as a broken whimper, and Emma's waterworks started again as her mother pulled her into a comforting embrace, her own tears falling on Emma's golden locks. Henry chose that exact moment to walk in, keys still dangling in his hand (he liked to show off the fact that he could drive to his younger classmates).

"Mom? Dad? Grams? Gramps?" He felt his own eyes welling up. If one member of his family was crying, it was bad. If it was all of them, well… he didn't want to think about that.

"Henry." Emma gasped, jumping back from Mary Margaret and cupping his cheeks in her hands. She then rearranged the stubborn cowlick at the top of his head (the one that had been there since the moment he was placed in her arms… before he was ripped from them.)

"We have some bad news, Lad." Hook started, gently taking Henry by the shoulders and guiding him to the white plastic chair.

"What is it, why is Tyler still sleeping?" The teenager's voice was an octave higher than usual, panic seeping into his tone.

"Your brother has cancer–" Hook had wanted to ease him into the bad news, but Emma seemed to want to do it band-aid style.

"He's dying."

"W-What?" Henry stammered, his gaze flicking between Tyler and his parents, then to Snow and David. After a moment, he bolted out of the room, which surprised none of them, sadly. Regina had raised him for ten years, and for another six, he idolized Emma. When Hook came into their lives five years ago, the boy had been mesmerized by the way Hook commanded respect, was feared, because Henry himself had been bullied. Needless to say, he didn't have the healthiest approaches to dealing with emotions, despite Snow and David having a very active role in his life. So he ran.

* * *

He died on a Monday. The funeral was small. Aside from Tyler's immediate family, Red, the dwarves (which only counted for four people), and Granny were the only other people there. Snow and David took Henry back to their apartment so Emma and Hook could have time alone to say goodbye to their son. They were staring at the black casket that was far too small, both their eyes dry because there couldn't possibly be any more tears to shed, when Regina's soft footfalls on the grass startled them out of their trance.

"I'm sorry." The former queen said, her eyes glued to the casket. She was wearing black rain boots (of course it was raining), black slacks, and her shirt was concealed by her black pea coat. Her usual dash of red lipstick was nowhere to be seen, but her hair was impeccable as always. She didn't look up at the grieving parents. She didn't want to see the normally strong and stoic prince and princess –Hook had been declared a prince when he and Emma married– so broken. "I know what it's like to lose a child."

"Except Henry didn't actually die." Emma said in a monotone.

"For thirty seconds, we both thought he did. In those thirty seconds, I knew how you're feeling. Hell, I _know_ how you're feeling. Because I remember it all too well." Regina tried to inject a little bit of venom, but she found that she couldn't. Even she wouldn't wish the death of a child on any parent, even Snow White. The sky opened up again, sending down a drizzle. "You two should go back home before you get sick." For a few beats, the trio stared at each other, neither party moving. Finally, the brunette sighed. "Well I'm not going to get sick." With that, she trudged back to her car.

"C'mon, Love." Hook guided Emma by the elbow to the yellow bug. They both threw a longing glance at their son's final resting place, both resisting the urge to run back, throw the casket open, and shake Tyler until he woke up.

"Killian?"

"Yes?"

"What're we going to do?"

Hook swallowed his tears, moving his good hand to grasp Emma's and answered honestly: "I don't know."

They both wondered if this was the one thing they would never overcome, the one thing they couldn't possibly recover from.


End file.
